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<title>Expired Red Bean Soup: A Brisk Summer Walk Through Hell by Wasabi0013</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29973789">Expired Red Bean Soup: A Brisk Summer Walk Through Hell</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wasabi0013/pseuds/Wasabi0013'>Wasabi0013</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fate/Grand Order</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 16:30:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,292</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29973789</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wasabi0013/pseuds/Wasabi0013</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Currently debating if this should be a standalone or a part of the Kara No Kyoukai apartment event, this details the adventures of a human girl named Marie Veris and her hellish adventure through the living nightmare that is her undead infested apartment complex. Servants answer humanities wishes, and answering one of the most prominent wishes in this hellscape, Chacha answers a girls cries for her mother and life. A series of misadventures detailing despair and hope as Marie attempts to figure out why her complex is crawling with ghosts and ghouls and why its impossible to exit the complex. Going to attempt to explore this fic further this year once college lightens up. Expect more near summer.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chacha Berserker and OC</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Expired Red Bean Soup: A Brisk Summer Walk Through Hell</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The pain she felt in her lungs is gone now. She assumes its because the adrenaline has finally reached her brain. She isn't sure how long she's been running at this point. Maybe it's been 2 minutes, maybe an hour. Between the pain and fear her brain has blended all the memories together. </p><p>....<br/>....<br/>Close.<br/>.....<br/>She should be close to the exit doors on the first floor now.<br/>......<br/>The stairwell on the second floor. <br/>.......<br/>She questions why the stairs to the apartment had to be spaced apart, with each stairwell up on the opposite side from the previous.<br/>........<br/>Why are all the windows made of strengthened glass? She wasn't able to break any open on the second floor.<br/>.........<br/>There is only one fire extinguisher on each floor. It's placed 5 feet off the ground and it's usually near the stairwell upward.<br/>..........<br/>Little things are clicking into place. Things that she didn't notice. Things that aren't normal.<br/>...........<br/>She hasn't been able to get any cell reception in the complex since she woke up. The wires to the emergency phone had been cut. The elevators had been under service for 4 months.<br/>............<br/>Her own weakness astounds her. She knew that her lifestyle wasn't that active. That a single morning walk and a stationary life in front of a screen wouldn't do her any favors. But she never thought she would tire-out this quickly running down stairs.<br/>.............<br/>She trips on the last 2 steps and scrapes her knee. There isn't any pain, only fear.<br/>..............<br/>She heaves herself upward and continues running. She can see the doors now.<br/>...............<br/>Their locked. The glass on the doors is also reinforced. <br/>................<br/>She picks up a potted plant and smashes it into the glass doors. It doesn't even make a dent. Only purple lines stain the door. *thud* They glow in patterns she doesn't recognize.<br/>.................<br/>Growls. Footsteps. No. Closer to thuds, no delicacy. <br/>..................<br/>She's hungry by this point. For some reason the bloody corpse next to her sprawled against the window doesn't ruin her appetite. *thud*<br/>...................<br/>She wants red bean soup. The kind her mother used to make when she lived in the countryside up north. Red. Red that reminds her of soup. She hadn't realized how much of it colors this floor. The gold encrusted wallpaper. The reddish brown desk. The reddish pottery. *thud* The dark red of the signs. The red of her own blood staining her shirt. The red of the dozens of corpses littered around the door. The petunias in a shattered pot.<br/>....................<br/>They must have had the same idea as her. Escape through the front door or at least break a 1st floor window and escape. *thud*<br/>.....................<br/>She laughs. Tears stream down her face. Her blood encrusted face. The fear has begun to subside. The thuds are louder, but her laughs drown them out. This place, this apartment complex she took to get into the city and away from home. Why hadn't she looked at it more thoroughly before moving in? Maybe because it felt like home. Maybe because all this red, the flowers, the darker wall paper, and the little shop that sells red bean soup down the road made it feel like home away from home. *thud* She laughs at her stupidity, her irony. She wanted so desperately to leave home, to leave that old wooden house with red wallpaper, petunias in the front garden, and red bean soup in the kitchen, and yet she had chosen a place to live that was so painfully ironic in how similar it was.<br/>......................<br/>Her laughs die down as the pain tickles her vocal cords. The zombie who had been thud thudding after her is now 12 feet away at the bottom of the stairwell. It's arm is broken now. It must have also fallen. Pricks of fear line her acceptance. Her instance has become an infinity thanks to the adrenaline. Time has slowed down enough that she can see how weak the undead chasing her truly is. Its legs are twisted, it's one arm is broken, the other rotted. It's face is trapped in a scowl. What kind of depressing death had it had? The zombie is wearing a torn suit, with pants that don't even cover its' calfs. It's wobbling pathetically through the hall.<br/>........................<br/>She stands, a brief respite of hope. A belief that she can outrun it to the next hall.<br/>.........................<br/>That spark dies as 4 more funnel in from the hall, followed by what looks like a ghost in a mourning veil.<br/>..........................<br/>"*hic* Momma..."<br/>...........................<br/>It's pathetic. She's crying for her mom. She's too slow to even outrun undead with broken twisted legs. She ran herself to her death. She wasn't paying attention to her surroundings. If she had payed attention she would have noticed the corpses and could have hidden herself somewhere.<br/>"I don't wanna die, momma."<br/>...    /a sizzle/<br/>"Save me mommy. I don't wanna die."<br/>.....  /a clink/<br/>"I wanna have red bean soup again. I wanna go home."<br/>......Haha. She remembers now. She had some red bean soup in her fridge on the 43rd floor. She got it 6 days ago./whoosh/ Its probably spoiled by now.<br/>.......<br/>The closest zombie. The broken, crippled zombie, lunges.<br/>"Please help me! I don't wanna die without eat red bean soup!"<br/>......What kind of final words were those? Who talks about soup on their death bed?<br/>/zinggggg...Crack!/<br/>..... Everything has gone dark now. She can't see anything. She can't feel anything. She must be dead now.<br/>......red.<br/>Everything is black darkness but she can see a faint red glow at the other end of the room.<br/>.......A demon mask.<br/>She concludes she must be in hell. Marie Veris. The girl who dreamt of the city. A girl who was rude to her mother. The girl who wound up lazily sitting in her room writing and doing spreadsheets for a company. The girl who had smashed her mother's petunias with a shovel after an argument over her pathetic life goals, or lack there of.<br/>.........A glint of gold.<br/>She wishes she had swallowed her pride and said sorry. She wishes she had accepted another bowl of red bean soup. Those are the two regrets that burn themselves in her hazy memory.<br/>......."Oi."<br/>She wonders why time is still moving so slow. Why is she still standing in the dark.<br/>"OI" The red light is getting closer to her. The demon mask attached to it is as well.<br/>"......"<br/>So this is the demon assigned for her judgement. It's a bit shorter than she thought it would be. Then again she was thinking of those giant oni statues her father took her to see as a kid.<br/>"Hey. Can you answer me already? Your'e kinda giving Chacha the heebie-jeebies."<br/>Marie giggles. What a cute demon. She supposes hell isn't all that bad. Maybe after enough time it will also feel like home. At least it's red.<br/>"OOOOOOOOIIIIIII!!!!" Veris falls on her butt. That was <i>way<i> too loud.<br/>The mask jiggles up and down, spilling a red glow over her. It, or rather Chacha, is staring directly at her, waiting for an answer.<br/>"Oh. Oh, sorry. Chacha was it? I'm Marie. Marie Veris. It's nice to meet you.<br/>"So you do have manners! Chacha is proud of you for remembering them. Hey wait, your stomach! Is it okay-oi! Marie! Master! Don't fall asleep!"<br/>.....Her brain is way to foggy for this conversation. What a nice demon. She hopes she gets to see her again when she wakes back up. But for now, she can't keep her eyelids open anymore. All the adrenaline is gone, and fatigue is all that's left. She should probably have listened to her nagging brother when he told her to take a sport her senior year.</i></i></p>
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